The Executioner's Rebellion (The Executioner's Song Book 4)

by D. K. Holmberg

  He had been injured far too many times while working with Master Meyer. It hadn’t slipped past him that he had been injured more times while working with Meyer than he ever had while serving the crew.

  He needed to keep going.

  Just a little longer.

  He had to fight—somehow.

  He clung to the horse, struggling to hold on, straining for alertness.

  Finn could barely keep his eyes open.

  Then he felt something touching him. Grabbing him.

  He tried to fight, to argue, but the hands upon him were strong, and they pulled, prying him free of the horse, dragging him down. He clutched the sword, squeezing on the hilt, refusing to let go of it, but the darkness claimed him regardless.

  Chapter Twelve

  When Finn woke again, sunlight streamed in through a window. The air smelled of a familiar aroma—mint and a mixture of medicines. He tried to sit up, but his head felt heavy. His side still ached, though not nearly as much as it had before. His hands were stiff, throbbing, and it took a moment to realize why. He was still holding onto the sword.

  Finn rolled over, anticipating another wave of nausea, but thankfully it didn’t come.

  “How do you feel?”

  Finn turned his head over and wasn’t surprised to see Esmerelda sitting in a chair, leaning forward and watching him. Her raven-dark hair hung down to the middle of her back, and her full lips were pressed together in a concerned frown. She carried a metal object that looked something like a spoon, but she tapped it rhythmically.

  “I suppose I owe you again,” he said.

  She smiled slightly. “Only if you want to.”

  Finn took a deep breath, letting it out slowly as he swung his legs over the side of the table. He had been in this room before. It had been awhile since he had been this injured, though perhaps he wasn’t nearly as injured as he had believed. Had he suffered a more fatal injury, he would not have expected to have survived the ride back to the city.

  “How did you know I was coming?”

  “The people saw you heading to the city.”

  “And that’s how you knew to come for me?”

  “We recognized that something was off. The horse was a little erratic.”

  “I think she’s always a little erratic,” Finn said.

  Esmerelda laughed, getting to her feet and standing alongside the table. She took one of his hands, squeezing it for a moment before tracing her fingers along his wrist. The action seemed clinical, but there was something sensual in her touch. “That’s right. I sometimes forget how little you care for riding.”

  “I do it out of necessity, not out of enjoyment.”

  “Sometimes it’s a matter of perspective, Finn. Perhaps if you would take more time to enjoy the necessity, you would find that it isn’t nearly as intolerable as you make it out to be.”

  “I don’t think that will change much of anything,” he said.

  She held her hand on his wrist. “Do you remember what happened?”

  “I was jumped.”

  “Do you remember why?”

  “The sword, I think. I’m not sure why. They were villagers from Weverth, but one of them had a mark for the Black Rose movement, which I’ve seen on posters around the city.”

  She frowned when he mentioned the sword as the target.

  “I imagine you intend to bring Archers with you to carry out the king’s justice?”

  Finn released his side. It still ached a bit, though it wasn’t nearly as tender as it would have been had Esmeralda not intervened. The hegen magic worked quickly, and it was incredibly effective. “There is no need. Justice has already been served.”

  Esmerelda’s gaze drifted to the sword. “That is not how it is to be used,” she said softly.

  “Not that,” Finn said. “They took it from me, and I fought, but…” He looked up, holding her dark-eyed gaze. “I think it was a berahn.”

  “As I’ve told you before, they would not have been in the forest,” she said.

  “I don’t know what else would have done it. One of the men had an arm and leg ripped off, another was disemboweled, and I didn’t see the third.” He thought that was the extent of the attack. Three attackers—all of them dead.

  And he had been left alive.

  Then again, he’d barely been alive. At that point, it was a wonder Finn was still breathing.

  “The berahn would not be around the city,” she said softly.

  “Unless there are Alainsith here.”

  “They would not be here,” she said.

  “Why not? If they’re concerned about their structures getting damaged, then it seems there is plenty of reason for them to be present.”

  “They abandoned those structures long ago, Finn. They would not care if they were destroyed. Not anymore.”

  Finn closed his eyes. “I didn’t hear anything. Other than the men calling out. Screaming.” He looked over to her. “And then I blacked out. When I came around, I found them like that.”

  “Perhaps it is Alainsith, then,” Esmerelda said and released his hand. Finn felt a moment of regret when she did. “First you have seen one, then one has protected you?”

  “I’m not so sure that it protected me as much as it didn’t attack me.”

  She looked over to him, holding onto a card, flipping it back and forth. Every time she turned the card, the ink slithered across its surface, shifting the picture of a mountain to a lake, to a tree, to a noose, then to a sword. Each time she flipped the card, the image changed.

  “If the berahn was aware of you, it chose to leave you.”

  “Why?”

  Esmerelda shook her head. “I don’t know.”

  Finn nodded to the cards in her hand. “You saw something. It’s in the way you’re holding onto those cards. There’s something off.”

  “Perhaps,” she said.

  “Have you found anything more?” Finn asked.

  “More?”

  Esmerelda looked over to him, holding a small metal object in her hand, though Finn couldn’t make out any of its details.

  “I saw an Alainsith structure collapse. The man I went to sentence used witchcraft against it.” Pain flared in his side, and he winced as he tried to adjust himself.

  She turned slowly, gripping the metal object in her hand a bit too tightly, her knuckles turning white. “What do you mean you saw one?”

  “That ultimately was what brought me out of the city.” Finn sighed, wincing softly as a bit of pain worked through him. “There was a man accused of digging up the dead. They tell me that he had been consorting with them. Apparently, he was found with a recently deceased woman, having dug up her body, and…” Finn shook his head. “The idea of it is difficult to fathom.”

  “There is power in decay,” she said softly.

  “Witchcraft?”

  “Possibly,” Esmerelda said, frowning as she took a deep breath.

  “He didn’t deny it. He kept saying we were unclean.”

  “We?”

  “At first, he accused the dead of being unclean, but the more I questioned him, the more he said others were unclean. It was the only thing he said.”

  “Where was this?”

  “The village of Weverth. The man lived outside of the village, in what I suspect was an old Alainsith structure, though I didn’t have much of an opportunity to investigate.”

  “Because it fell apart?”

  “It was intact when I arrived, but it collapsed as soon as I started to go through it, looking for answers.”

  Esmerelda set the card aside. There was a sword on it again.

  “Interesting that it would collapse the moment you got inside,” she said, pressing the tips of her fingers together. “Did you do anything?”

  “I didn’t.”

  “Did anyone else with you do anything?”

  Finn shook his head. “Not that I know of… Well, one of the men who attacked me was with me. At the time, I didn’t really know who
he was.” At this point, Finn still didn’t know who he was, other than dead. “He came along because he wanted to learn more about me.”

  Esmerelda smiled slightly. “Your profession is an interesting topic of conversation.”

  “You don’t have to make fun.”

  “I was not.”

  “I told him a few stories and he told me he was a brewer. He kept offering me ale.” At least with Olanth, he’d thought he could tell stories. There were some whom he didn’t want to tell his stories to.

  “Something you likely would have appreciated.”

  “I don’t mind a mug of ale,” Finn said.

  “And you should not.” She smiled slightly, but it didn’t remove the edge of worry in her eyes. That remained a constant. When Esmerelda worried, he worried.

  “Once we were inside, I noticed that the stone started to collapse.”

  “Were both of you inside, or was it just you?”

  “I don’t know. Both, I think.”

  “Is that the only strangeness you encountered?”

  “You mean other than the ring of dead bodies surrounding the home?”

  “There were a ring of bodies?”

  “They were situated all around the wall around the home.” Finn shook his head. “It was quite disturbing—even for someone like myself, who has experience around the dead.”

  “That is… unusual,” she said. Esmerelda stopped, pressing her hands together, and turned back to look down at the card she’d set on the table next to her. “I’ve been looking, but answers have not come.”

  Finn slipped off the edge of the table. A bit of pain surged in his side, leaving him cramping slightly, but not so much that he couldn’t stay standing. “What are you going on about?”

  “Something is taking place with these Alainsith structures,” she said. “Whatever it is might be dangerous.”

  “To the Alainsith?”

  “Yes.”

  “The kingdom?”

  “Yes.”

  “To you?” Finn asked, leaning slightly toward her.

  “Possibly,” she said, turning away. She scooped the cards off the table, flipped them again, then turned them back into her palm and set them in her pocket.

  He’d been warned that something more might happen.

  When he’d sentenced Elizabeth Jarvis, she’d promised it was only the beginning.

  What if this was the beginning?

  First protests, now witchcraft attacking Alainsith structures?

  What was going on?

  “I could help. The men who attacked me might be involved in what is going on.” Olanth had been a part of him traveling to that Alainsith building, and it was only after he and Olanth had gone into the building that it had corrupted, collapsing. Whatever else had happened, Olanth must have triggered it with his connection to witchcraft. “They were with Olanth, I’m certain.”

  Esmerelda looked over to him, smiling slightly. It seemed to him that she struggled with a decision, before nodding to herself. “Then there is something I should show you.”

  Finn wobbled for a moment, catching himself on the table. “Now?”

  He really should return to Meyer. There was too much that needed doing, and he’d been away for what felt like an eternity.

  But after what he’d seen in the village, he needed to know.

  “If you are able.”

  “I don’t know that I can walk, not that I want to ride. Wait. What did you do with the horse?”

  “What was that?”

  Finn shrugged. “The horse. What did you do with it? I have to return it to the stable; otherwise, I have to pay for the entire creature.”

  Esmerelda started to laugh, breaking some of the tension in the room. It wasn’t so much tension between them as it was tension about their topic of conversation. “I imagine you would be most displeased to have to pay for a horse.”

  “Maybe if I liked the horse, I wouldn’t have such an issue with it, but this one…” He shook his head. “The damn thing was so fat I could barely stay on it.”

  “I suspect it was the girth of the creature that kept you atop her when you collapsed.” Esmerelda reached forward, touching his side. Finn felt a faint tremble, a bit of excitement at her touch, but pushed that down. “Otherwise, you might have been much worse off than you were.”

  “So I should be thankful they gave me a fat horse?”

  “Yes, and perhaps also appreciative of the mare getting you back to the city safely.” Esmerelda tipped her head to the side slightly and her smile faded.

  “If I see her again, I will have to tell her that.”

  “She’s tied up outside, so you can tell her yourself.”

  Finn snorted. “You could’ve just told me that.”

  “I did.”

  He looked around the inside of the room. “What about my shirt?”

  “What about it?”

  “Do you want me to walk back to the city shirtless?”

  “It would be quite the sight,” she said.

  “I’m sure. And I would likely draw the wrong kind of attention from the Archers. I have a hard enough time with them as it is these days.”

  “Leading is not so much about dictating what happens,” Esmerelda said, “as it is about influence. If you have enough influence, then you can lead more effectively.”

  “Is that how it is with you?”

  “I am one of the youngest of my position among the people,” Esmerelda said, glancing down to the table before looking up at him again. “And in my position, I have found it is often easier to influence them than to direct them. Perhaps it would be the same for you with both the Archers and the iron masters.”

  “It’s not just them,” Finn said. Esmerelda offered him his shirt, and he noticed it had been stitched up. Not only had she repaired him, but she’d repaired his shirt as well. He slipped it on, wincing again as he stretched the injury. “It’s also the wardens. They tend to chafe at having to follow an executioner.”

  “Perhaps it’s not the executioner they chafe at, but the age of the executioner.”

  “Am I too young?” He had no idea what the typical age was for an executioner to take on increasing responsibilities. The only one he’d ever seen was Master Meyer and the Lion, along with the court. Most of them were older.

  “Perhaps not. You’re certainly experienced. You have proven yourself in a way I think others of your age have not.”

  “Is that a good thing?”

  “What do you think?”

  Finn chuckled. “I think there are times Master Meyer grows frustrated with me.”

  “Because you push him?”

  “I think he would find it easier if I were to just take directions and follow what he wants me to do.”

  “Perhaps easier, but not better.”

  She motioned for him to follow, and after gathering the horse, they walked through the hegen section, taking a different route than they had before. At one intersection, Finn saw an impressive mural painted on a home. It looked to be of a mountain range with snow-capped peaks, sunlight streaming down and reflecting off of it. With the cool breeze gusting along the street, Finn could almost imagine being high in the mountains, even though he had never seen them in person.

  “The skill is impressive.”

  She looked over, chuckling at him. “If you spent more time among the people, you’d recognize that the skill, such as you say, is impressive throughout all the people. Most of the people find joy in their calling.”

  “Even if their calling doesn’t lead to wealth.”

  Esmerelda stopped in front of another mural painted on a home. This one looked to be of a vast garden, flowers sweeping across the vista, and it spread from one house to another, to another, as if he were looking into the distant horizon. The hegen section was a maze of narrow streets and alleys, and he’d never fully explored them.

  “What is wealth but a mindset? What is valuable to you may not be valuable to others.” She turned and
looked at him. “What is it that you want more than anything in the world?”

  Finn’s side ached, and his mind hopped through everything that he’d seen and what he needed to do, but the question stayed with him. What did he want more than anything else in the world?

  At one point, he would’ve said that he wanted to have stability, but he’d gained that. Another time, he would’ve said that he wanted wealth, but he had seen the risks and dangers that others had gone through to chase it.

  What did he want?

  He wanted his friends and family to be safe, but even that had stabilized over time.

  These days, Finn wasn’t even sure what he wanted.

  Esmerelda watched him, a knowing look in her eyes.

  “Why are you looking at me like that?” Finn asked.

  “How am I looking at you?”

  “Like you know the secret to some puzzle.”

  “Perhaps that’s all it is. Perhaps it’s the answer to a puzzle, or perhaps it’s you who has struggled to find the answer to the puzzle.”

  “There is no puzzle,” Finn said.

  “Perhaps not,” Esmerelda said, shaking her head and shrugging. “Maybe it’s nothing more than knowing that even though you look for answers, they might be right before you.”

  She started along the street again and stopped at a building that was wider than the others. She took the reins of the horse, tied them to a post outside, then pushed open the door.

  “We have time for a brief stop,” she said. “And this is on the way to what you need to see.”

  Laughter greeted him as soon as the door opened. Light streamed through the windows and skylights, letting in the daylight, and lanterns, too, blazed brightly. Everything about the space felt cozy and warm.

  It was much larger than it had appeared from the outside and filled with the voices of children laughing and adults trying to talk over them; he even heard an occasional bark from a dog scurrying around the room.